The Impossible Scenario
by Wolf Tears-v1.0
Summary: Orphaned by her birth parents, Paradox may have been born a killer, but she has never known anything but the life of a gnawer. But to them, she is nothing but an outcast- a mistake, a pariah, struggling to fit in in a world she longs to be part of.
1. Prologue

**The Impossible Scenario**

Never was there anyone more fit to their name than Paradox. She is truly an impossible scenario- a killer, orphaned by her parents, raised in a world where she should not belong- and doesn't. Gnawer in soul to the last drop of blood, the young girl nonetheless finds herself a social pariah for the one thing she can do nothing to change- her shape.

She speaks their language, hunts like them, even adopts their fighting skills. She's immersed in gnawer custom from an age when she was too young to remember. But she still has to struggle to fit in with a world that doesn't want her...

.x.x.x.x.x.

To those of you wondering, this story has **nothing** to do with Lulu's The Gnawer's Girl, and in fact Lulu is aware of this. This is based off of the life of Paradox, one of my roleplay characters- in fact, she is my first and favorite TUC-based char. Therefore, please do not bother Lulu or me telling us that our stories are related.

Disclaimer: Need I even bother? We all know that TUC belongs to the lovely Suzanne Collins. However, if you steal my plot, Paradox, Pearltooth, Flashstrike, or any other original characters belonging to myself, I'll have the authorities on you faster than you can say "plagiarism".

Now- let the journey begin...

* * *

_Screams split the air, a melody set to the rhythm of the clash of claws against steel, blades against teeth. A few defenders stay near the torches, struggling to keep the light from going out on their fighting comrades; fliers wheel overhead, some carrying soldiers, some swooping down to carry off the injured or the noncombatants. High-pitched gnawer shrieks blend with the Regalian officers' orders in a terrible cacophony that wrenches the ears of all who hear it.  
_

_Through it all, the girl watches her mother's face. The background flies by them, but that one familiar, beloved image is a constant, and she gazes upon it with the trusting eyes of a child. That's what she is, after all- a child. And she trusts that wherever she's being taken, it's for the best. She doesn't understand that there are gnawers attacking the city; she can't know that her people are at war, or what that means for her family, for herself.  
_

_But what she does understand is that her constant is changing. She watches for a moment, confused, then realizes- she's being left. Her mother's face is streaked with wet tears; she understands the tears, but not what is causing them. Why is her mother sad? Why is she crying? The child reaches out with tiny hands, her fingers clasping and unclasping, but her mother's face begins to rise away. The girl realizes she has been set down- inside something. A basket? She can't see. She doesn't care. Why is she being left?_

_Then the girl feels the basket begin to move. A voice meets her ears- "My child," whispers her mother. And then a cry flings itself from her throat as she finds herself caught, and the basket holding her sweeps her away from her mother. She feels water against her skin- and then those are the only sensations. Water… movement… how fast is she going? Where is she? Why has her mother left her? She can't think…_

.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

_How long has she been moving? The child has given up crying, given up trying to get back. The river moves her along less swiftly now, but she's soaked, chilled to the bone. Her young mind can't wrap itself around the events of the day. She had been sleeping so peacefully- then she had woken to the rhythm of her mother's feet, carrying her to this place of movement, this place where she is now…_

_Why? Why had she been abandoned?_

_She feels rather than hears the soft thump as her makeshift boat hits the bank, jolting to a stop. Lucky she had been going slow, or she would have crashed… and been thrown out… been hurt… _

_She's too exhausted to take it any more. The child's eyes drift shut, and she gives in to sleep…_

.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"I'm fine, Flashstrike." The gnawer's voice was teasing, but there was a note of annoyance held there too. "I'm pregnant, not crippled."

Her mate shuffled his gray feet sheepishly. "I know, but we've been out for a long time today. I wanted to make sure-"

"Oh, Flashstrike." Pearltooth rolled her eyes good-naturedly and turned away. "Come on, let's get back to the Tunnels." She prodded her mate gently with her tail, and her grinned and began to follow her back down the river toward their cave.

Then, suddenly, Pearltooth tripped. Her mate rushed forward, but she brushed him away with her tail and gave him an annoyed glare. "I told you, I'm _fine_." Why must he worry over her so much? "I just tripped." A sudden thought came to her, and she turned. "But what trip-?"

The gnawer stopped, her mouth still open as though forming words, but frozen in place. Flashstrike followed her gaze, wondering what was wrong, and after a moment caught sight of the cause of her shock. "It's just a killer," he said, nuzzling her quietly. "A child, no less. Come on- no need to gape, or have you never seen a killer before?"

Pearltooth snapped out of her shock and glared at him fiercely. "Just a killer, perhaps. But _just_ a baby?" she growled quietly. Her mate gulped and took a step back- Pearltooth rarely got angry, but when she did, it was seldom subtle. She didn't notice him move, only followed him step for step without even realizing it. "It's a _baby_, Flashstrike, no matter what species! What sort of mother would abandon their child?" Her gaze lost its anger as she turned back to the child. "She's alone…"

A thought flared into Flashstrike's mind. "The attack today. On Regalia." He spoke softly. "Do you think-"

"Of course!" Instantly Pearltooth's gaze was pitying, and she stepped over to the sleeping child. "Her mother must have thought the currents safer than the city." The gnawer sighed, then grasped the handle of the basket with the end of her tail, dragging it out of the water. "Well, then, we'll just have to take care of her ourselves."

"Yes, of cou- wait! What?!" Flashstrike scrambled toward his mate, mud flying beneath his frantic paws. "_We're_ going to raise _her_? A killer? Us? Gnawers?"

"Unless _you_ have a better idea," said Pearltooth, her voice tart. "She can grow up with the pups."

"But don't killers grow slower than-"

Pearltooth's gaze as she lifted the basket in her teeth left no room for argument. Flashstrike gave a resigned sigh and began following her once more toward the Tunnels.

_A killer_, he though, and suppressed a sigh.

There could be no good ending here.


	2. Dagger

Thanks, to you guys you reviewed. I appreciate it- it's good to know that people actually enjoy reading the stuff I spew out at random intervals. :D

Disclaimer: Do you really think I've hatched a plot to steal the Underland Chronicles from Suzanne Collins? Of course not. Besides, do you think I _would_? Er- don't answer that question.

* * *

-Chapter One-

**Dagger**

...

_The child watches as her newfound family rushes about; a few tears slip down her cheeks as she wonders what will happen to her. The last time she was surrounded by shrieks and the adults were frantic, she had been left alone. Would her new family abandon her, too?_

_Soon she's alone- she can't hear them scrambling about anymore. The only sounds are those that drift to her from outside. Screams and the clanging of claws on steel fill her ears for the second time in her life, and she shivers in fear. Even her sister is gone, fighting outside._

_Time passes. Slowly the screams drift away, and the girl becomes aware that she's not alone anymore. The gnawers that walk past her family's cave seem downcast, but she doesn't care- the fact that they're there at all is good enough for her. But when she crawls over, reaches out to them, they glare, and she shrinks back._

_One snaps at her, and she cries out and backs away as the gnawer bares his teeth._

_Then her family is there. The girl stares up at her adopted parents, relief filling her. They'll make everything alright. Everything will be fine now._

_"It's not her fault." Flashstrike speaks, staring down the gnawer who had snapped at her. The gnawer snorts in disbelief as others begin to crowd the tunnel._

_Someone calls out. "She's still a killer!"_

_The girl stares, her eyes wide. She knows she's a killer. Nobody every lied to her about that. But surely whatever happened had nothing to do her!_

_The next few moments are a blur. A fight breaks out; her sister stands over her, protecting her. But in the end, the girl's muddled mind realizes that they're running, the other gnawers screaming at them as they flee. Her, her parents, her sister- they're outcasts now._

_And it's all her fault…_

"Paradox! Wake up!"

The girl squirmed, then cried out again. Even from the outside, you could tell she was afraid- she was turning restlessly, and a few tears were brimming out from under her eyes. Occasionally she'd cry out or even scream, and her limbs would flail wildly in remembered terror.

"You're dreaming, Paradox!"

The girl's eyes snapped open, and she lay still for several seconds, her breathing harsh; her eyes were wild, the pupils contracted with fear. Then, as the dream began to fade and her vision cleared, she sat up, looking around and absentmindedly running her fingers through her hair.

Her brother, Snapclaw, sat back, staring at her with a mixture of reproach and relief on his face. He didn't scold her, though- it was common knowledge to the entire family that Paradox was no easy sleeper. "Another bad dream?"

"The Garden," she squeaked back in response, knowing he would know which garden she was talking about; her five-year-old mouth couldn't pronounce the full name- even in the gnawer language, which was much easier to master than English- but there were only so many gardens with memories attached that could make her cry out. Come to that, there were only so many gardens in the Underland, period.

Not wanting to dwell on uncomfortable thoughts, the girl glanced around. "Where are-"

"Mom and Dad and Song went down to the river." Snapclaw prodded her with a claw. "Don't you remember? We're all learning to fish today. It's her turn now, then us two will go together."

All thoughts of bad dreams vanished, and Dox's eyes shone. Fishing! One of those gnawer arts that she had long yearned to try, but hadn't been able to due to the fact that she grew so much slower than gnawers. The child couldn't even remember a time when she hadn't enviously watched each year's pups go down to the river and learn to pull food out of the water, wanting desperately to do so herself but not being allowed.

Well, no more! Had she been raised among killers, Paradox may have rubbed her hands in anticipation; if she had possessed a tail, it would have been beating an uneven, excited rhythm on the floor. As it was, she held her entire body tense with barely contained energy.

"In fact," Snapclaw said, smiling a little at his sister's excitement, "I think I hear them coming back."

Paradox strained her ears; after several long moments, she gave up, deciding to take her brother's word for it when he said he could hear them. It was one of those painfully obvious truths that the hearing of true gnawers was far better than her own.

But the wait was not long; in a few minutes, even she could here the sounds of gnawers' voices, and then the padding of footsteps over rock. Brother and sister both scrambled to the edge of the cave and peered out; they were met with the sight of two laughing parents and one very wet, very cross pup.

"How did it go?" Snapclaw asked, a smile tugging at his lips when her saw his sister.

"Oh, fine…" Pearltooth smiled over at her daughter.

"Until she slipped and fell in," Flashstrike added, prodding Song with his tail.

She glared at him, her brown eyes defiant. "I caught a fish, didn't I?"

"Well, yes… but then you dropped it." Their mother smiled as her daughter turned away, disgruntled. "Song, we're only teasing. You did very well for your first try."

Song still looked annoyed, but there was a glow of pride in her as well as she turned back to look at her family. "I'll bet three fish teeth I do better than Snapclaw and Paradox!"

"But fish don't have teeth," said Paradox, confused.

"Exactly!" Song was laughing now, her tail beating softly on the ground in mirth. Paradox glared for a moment, then laughed as well. Her sister's sense of humor might be odd, but it was contagious.

Snapclaw was growing impatient by now. "It's our turn now, right? Mine and Dox's?"

"Of course." Pearltooth nodded. "I'll be taking you two down to the river."

"I'm staying here with Song," Flashstrike put in. "We've got tactics to discuss."

"Then let's go!" Paradox smiled at her brother, whose tail and paws were both twitching with impatience that he was only barely bothering to suppress. The moment their mother nodded, he gave a squeak of excitement and ran out into the tunnel; Paradox was only seconds behind him, but soon her short legs left her far behind.

"Here, little Two-Legs." Pearltooth caught her adapted child up and helped her climb onto her back; she would have swung her up, but she was afraid of putting holes in the girl's shirt, as clothing was not exactly easy for gnawers to find, especially not these days. "It will be quicker this way."

And the three set down the corridor.

* * *

"Woah."

That was the killer sense of the trill that fluttered out from between Dox's lips. All she could do was stare; when her parents had explained a river, she had thought of it like the pond near their cave, only longer and a bit deeper, with water that drifted by instead of staying still.

This… was not that.

For one thing, it was huge. They used the pond near home for swimming lessons; there was no way in all the Underland she could ever swim across this "river", even if her entire family was helping. For another thing, nothing that had boulders floating in it could be remotely shallow. And finally, in regard to those boulders- weren't giant rocks supposed to be bid and heavy and hard to move? Weren't they not supposed to be swept along like old fish bones? And shouldn't water be blue or clear and still, not white and frothing?

_Frothing_. "Mom, does it have the summer madness?"

Dox wasn't entirely sure what "summer" was, or even whether it was an object or a name; but she was, like any gnawer young or old, fully aware of what the term "summer madness" meant. When a gnawer grew insane and began foaming blood and saliva, when they attacked everything within reach and then lay paralyzed, dieing in desperate thirst and yet unable to swallow- that was the summer madness.

"Paradox." It was Snapclaw who answered; her stared at his younger sister as though she was the biggest idiot ever. "It's a _river_. Made of _water_. How can water get sick?"

"Hmph." Paradox glared back down at him from her position atop her mother's back; but there was a sparkle in both their eyes, and each knew the other wasn't really mad. "How would you know? This is the first time you've seen a river, either."

This entire conversation was said not so much in words, as was the killer style, but also in posture; in the way their eyes narrowed and then opened again, in the positions of her arms and his tail, in the way they held themselves, Snapclaw with the posture of one who believes their argument better, Paradox in the semi-wavering, semi-lofty position of one who thinks their opponent has a point, but doesn't want to give in just yet.

Now, possibly to keep them from any more argument, Pearltooth came to an abrupt stop; Snapclaw nearly ran into his mother, and Dox had to grab at her fur to keep from toppling over.

As the child eased herself down, Pearltooth spoke. "Both of you are, to an extent, correct." She swiveled her gaze from one youngster to the other, than went on. "The summer madness- or rabies, as the killers know it- is carried in the blood and breath, of which a river has none; therefore, a river cannot contract the disease."

Snapclaw gave his sister a "Ha, told you so!" sort of look, and she stuck her tounge out at him in an "Oh, well, too bad!" manner.

"But the water can get sick," their mother went on, oblivious to the unspoken conversation. "Often due to the trash of killers, sometimes because of the rotting carcasses of creatures thrown or fallen in, the river can, in a way, sicken. The pollution will steal from the water the nutrients and other things needed for fish and plants to survive, and the river itself will blacken and becomes thick."

Both children sat in silence, only having understood about half of what she had said. Snapclaw was looking bewildered, but seemed to get the gist of the idea; Paradox was staring off into space, doing her best to burn that last sentence of her mother's into her head so she could figure out what it meant later. An aura of, "And you expected us to understand this?" emanated from both of them.

Pearltooth sighed and shook her head, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Ah, well. You'll understand someday. Now, children- we are here."

Pup and toddler turned their attention toward the river; Paradox breathed a mental sigh of relief when she saw that the current was softer here, and only occasionally flashes of white foamed out of the otherwise properly blue water.

"But before we begin lessons," the brown gnawer continued, looking straight at Paradox, "I have something for you, little one." Paradox cocked her head curiously, and her mother smiled softly. "This lesson involves claws, which you, dearest impossible Dox, lack. Therefore…" Turning away, Pearltooth muttered a few things to herself, then walked decisively to a particularly large gray rock and flipped it over. Paradox and Snapclaw both craned their necks to get a better view; whatever had lay under the rock was shiny, but that was all they could see before Pearltooth picked it up gingerly in her jaws.

A few moments later the object was laying down and Dox's feet, and the child bent down curiously to pick it up.

Any killer there might have screamed at the sight of a five-year-old being presented with the object Paradox was holding now. However, gnawers are more strict with their pups when they are growing up; their rules are harder to bend, and their punishments are not meant so much to cause pain as to learn what they have done wrong and why, thus instilling a deeper sense of wrong and right into their young. Thus, Pearltooth had no problem presenting the (usually) responsible Paradox with a full-sized dagger.

It was an ornately carved thing, something that the pups' parents had had to go through more channels than they cared to count to get to. Gnawers, fliers, and killers were engraved into the black hilt, much in the style of- not that Paradox had seen them- the buildings of Regalia, but on a much smaller scale; these images were cleverly carved so that rather than make the handling of the weapon hard on the user, they actually formed a hold for one's hand. The blade itself was long and sleek, of a texture that one knew would reflect light had there been any about, and was a good six inches long.

Paradox turned the thing over and over in her hands, trying to figure it out; at last she put her gaze to her mother, her dark purple eyes confused. "What is it?" That was what she might have said in words, but instead did in actions.

"It is called a dagger, a smaller version of the swords killers use in place of the claws they lack. I trust you will be careful- the edges are very sharp."

Paradox was vaguely aware of her brother's envious stare, but didn't care; her eyes were locked back on the "dagger", studying every detail with precise care. This was her own set of claws- her protection, her hunting tools, her weapon to use when in danger. She wanted to know it perfectly, to have every contour memorized so that she would always know it from another.

"And now," Pearltooth said, causing both children to break their gaze and turn back to her, "we learn to fish."

She didn't fall into the water that day, though she came very close once, and only managed to pull out a small fish as opposed to her siblings' impressive catches. But nonetheless, as Paradox stayed up that night studying her new dagger with eyes, ears, and fingers, she couldn't help but feel that she had won the largest victory of the three.


	3. Gnawer

Well. There are parts of this chapter that I like, and parts that I don't. However, I am proud to say that it is the single longest fanfic chapter I have _ever_ written, for anything. Anything good, anyways.

SN, Lulu, thank you so much for reviewing! That means a lot to me. -hugs reviewers-

And now, my friends... Read, review, and- most especially- enjoy!

--Wolf Tears

Disclaimer: Almost forgot this! That wouldn't be good... Except maybe if I left this out everyone would think I owned TUC... eh, probably not. Oh well. Just for the record, I haven't succeeded yet in stealing the Underland Chronicles from Suzanne Collins- er, not that I've tried! -shifty eyes- I do, however, own Paradox, the Knot, Pearltooth, Flashstrike, Snapclaw, Song, Darkfang, Echo, Rip, Shredtail, Whip, everyone's names, and, of course, the plot.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

**Five years, six months**

**-Knot-**

_She stands on a ledge, overlooking a place she's never seen; tens and dozens- to her amazed eyes, hundreds- of streams and rivers are spread before her. Gnawers are scattered all about; adults fish and talk amongst themselves, pups play and splash in and out of the water._

_She hops down from her spot, landing easily on all four paws. She and her siblings rush to meet the pups, yelling introductions at the top of their lungs. The others come forward, eager to meet the new arrivals._

_But they edge away when they see her, as though bothered by something. Upset, she begins to pad after one, then another, then one more stranger; but each runs from her, at the same time attempting to not seem like they're running._

_Confused, she goes back to her brother and sister. As she moves, a path parts for her- not out of respect, but out of mingled fear and disgust. She greets her family in the gnawer tounge- but as she does so, her balance tilts, and she looks down to see that her fur has woven itself into clothes, her legs and paws have become arms and feet and killer legs. Confused, feeling awkward and afraid, she stands, and is acutely aware of how her senses have been diminished tenfold. The gnawers around her no longer smell like individuals, but merely like gnawers; the rush of each individual stream has faded to one roar of moving water._

_But her ears are still sharp enough to pick up the whisper that moves from gnawer to gnawer._

_"Impossible…"_

_She shakes her head, arguing that she is no killer, that she is gnawer. She holds her hands out to her family, desperate tears stinging her eyes._

_But though they reach, though her eyes meet theirs, they are slowly separated. By the moving mass of gnawers. By the hate directed at her, that causes her to slowly go weak and crumble to the ground.But most of all, by that single word, and the truth of it that reverberates through her bones._

_"Impossible…"_

"Dox? You do realize that you're supposed to have your nightmares at night, right? That's why they're _night_mares and not _day_mares?"

Paradox shook her head and glanced around, blinking the remnants of the daydream away from her eyes. She discovered, to her chagrin, that she had fallen behind; her parents were several yards ahead of her, and Song and Snapclaw were stopped, staring back at her.

It was Song who had spoken, but Dox's apology addressed them both. "Sorry. I guess… I'm just nervous."

Song snorted in a combination of exasperation and sympathy. Their brother was more sympathetic; he padded over to her and nudged her softly, saying, "What is there to be nervous about? Yes, there are many rivers, but Mom said none of them are any bigger or more dangerous than the Regalian, and all of us been there loads of times."

Dox sighed and started walking forward again, absentmindedly running a hand through her short hair as she often did. Her siblings were gnawers; they had four feet and a tail and fur. She was no less a gnawer, but for her outside; there, she was killer, furless, two-legged, helpless. Her heart was gnawer; her blood was not. She didn't fit.

Not that all this was thought in so many words; Dox was bright for her age, but five and a half is, well, five and a half. She was young for her species, too young to have the words to explain her thoughts. And even if she had had all the words in the world, she may not have been able to explain anyway. Some things just don't fit into words.

Besides, it would hardly do for others, even her siblings, to know her insecurities. She was the youngest, proportionally; she was the outsider, the oddity. The runt. She had to be strong, as strong as she could be, just to fit in.

So she shrugged and sighed, and ran to catch up to Pearltooth and Flashstrike- who had, by now, stopped and turned around, wondering where their children had gone. "I worry not about the trip, nor is it the Knot that worries me," she said simply, and left it at that. Her siblings exchanged confused glances, then shrugged.

And then they were on their way again.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

The Knot was everything Paradox had imagined and more.

_I must stop attempting to imagine landscapes_, the girl thought. First the River, now this; her mind simply didn't appear to have the capability to imagine such impressive sights as those the world had to offer.

Her imagination? Some rivers and a whole lot of streams criss-crossed tightly together, covering maybe an area the size of two caves. None of them, to her mind, would be any wider than, say, about a third the Regalian's width, but in her mind all the rivers had been essentially the same.

Reality? The Knot covered about a square mile. There had to be at least dozens, maybe up to hundreds, of waterways spread out, intersecting each other at random intervals. Sometimes there was only an inch or so between rivers, sometimes several yards; more often the distance spanned between three and six feet. Sometimes it was hard to tell if something was a river or a stream, so great was the variance in size and speed. There were torrents of water two feet wide that ran as fast as the famed Regalian River; there were canals that, to Dox's overwhelmed mind, must span at least two yards, that flowed at such a languid pace that they almost seemed to stand still.

Paradox, dazed, felt herself slowly falling and instantly righted herself. A glance at her siblings confirmed that they were in no better state; Snapclaw had given his neck a crick from swiveling his head back and forth too fast, attempting to see everything at once, and Song appeared to have been frozen to stone.

Their parents were finding this all immensely amusing. Flashstrike was in stitches, rolling on the ground in laughter; Pearltooth, who had shoved her nose into the ground to avoid the same fate, was little better.

Paradox coughed indignantly, alerting her siblings, whose expressions morphed into glares as they turned and saw the older gnawers' reactions. This only added to the parents' mirth; Flashstrike appeared to be choking now, and Pearltooth had finally lost her footing and was lying on her back, paws waving in the air.

At last the two got a hold of themselves and picked themselves up. The pups uniformly sighed in exasperation as the adults exchanges amused glances; sensing their children's irritation, Pearltooth and Flashstrike calmed themselves the rest of the way and stood straight again, a sign that the pups were to pay attention.

They did so, and Flashstrike began to speak. "You may all run around and have fun like the little insane rascals you are."

The pups too excited to even care about the tease. Smiles lit the faces of all three children- if, after all, "children" was the right word for Song and Snapclaw, who were six months old and halfway to adulthood.

"But-" the smiles faltered briefly, then recovered when Pearltooth went on, "-you must stay where we can keep track of you."

"Go on, now," Flashstrike said, prodding each pup in turn with his tail. "Your mother and I need a break from you lot, okay?"

The pups obligingly ran off.

.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.x.

"Just don't laugh at her, alright?"

"She's different, not a freak."

Paradox felt her chest rise and fall rapidly at the sounds of approaching footsteps and hushed voices. Her only reassurance was the fierce defense running through both her siblings' tones. But even the knowledge that she had their support was little comfort when she heard the other pups; they spoke too quietly for her to make out any words, but she could hear several different tones, ranging from curiosity and puzzlement to downright suspicion and uneasiness.

"Dox?" Snapclaw stepped into the cave where she had taken refuge; his expression was confident, but Paradox could read a trace of worry there, too. "Are you ready?"

Paradox wavered slightly. This had been the agreed plan; the entire family had known she was too different to be introduced to strangers like any other pup, and she and Song and Snapclaw had spent hours figuring out a method of introduction that they thought would result in the least amount of confusion and anger for everyone involved.

But she could always back out. She could say no. She could live her own life in seclusion, allow her siblings to lead normal lives, unhampered by her…

"I am ready." Paradox straightened her shoulders and flipped her hair back from her face.

Snapclaw's eyes lingered on her for a moment, as though he knew what she was thinking. The girl stared at her brother impassively, and after a moment he nodded and backed out of the cave.

Paradox listened to his footsteps round the corner. His voice- a last-minute introduction, she thought, but she wasn't sure because she wasn't really listening. Her ears were ringing with mingled anxiety and anticipation. Today would be the first time she was introduced properly to gnawer society. She would either enter it today- or leave the world entirely.

She took a deep breath, held her head high, and exited the cave. She moved as though in a dream- each step was unreal, paranormal, as though they belonged to someone else in another time. Each moment sped up and slowed down as though it had its own will- first too fast, then too slow, always the opposite of how she wanted it to move.

"How can _that_ be your _sister_?" Those were the first words Paradox heard, and she snapped out of her trancelike state. Her eyes passed across the small group of assembled gnawers, darting about like twisters in pursuit of prey. It didn't take her long to find the speaker; one of the pups- a totally black male who looked to be about four months old- was staring at her with undisguised hatred. Paradox met his dark eyes evenly, hoping to find some yield; but the other's eyes held only that deep, unwavering loathing.

The girl didn't give anyone else time to say anything- not even her brother and sister, always so quick to defend her. "_That_ is intelligent," Paradox said, forcing herself to keep her voice calm. She may only be five and a half, but she was smart enough to know that couldn't afford a fight, not with a gnawer, no matter how young. Heck, a blind two-day-old nibbler pup could figure that out.

The pup's eyes widened considerably, and Dox thought he might take a step back. He recovered himself quickly, though, and resumed his daggered stare. "I _know_ you killers are _intelligent_. That doesn't mean you have a right to-" suddenly the pup stopped mid-sentence and coughed, shock crossing his features. "Hang me by my tail and rip out my ears- it talks!"

"Well," said another pup, this one also male, but a little older and with a pale gray coat. He addressed the black pup with a tone that was caught somewhere between rebuke and amusement. "She's lived with gnawers for most of her life- I should think she knows out tounge."

He then proceeded to ignore the black pup; instead he turned to Paradox now, speaking to her directly. "You'll have to excuse Darkfang- his parents were killed by killers when he was still in the nest, and he holds a grudge. Or-" Suddenly the gray gnawer stopped, looking uncomfortable. "If you prefer the term human…"

"Killers is fine," said Dox. The phrase was accompanied by a shrug that implied she didn't care one way or the other- which, in fact, she didn't.

"Killers is _right_," came a disgruntled mumble somewhere from Darkfang's direction.

"Anyway," said the gray gnawer, "I am right, right? About you living with gnawers most of your life, that is. You're Paradox, aren't you?"

Dox's mouth dropped open. How did this pup know her name? From her right came Snapclaw's low growl, providing harmony to Song's angry, "And just _how_, Shredtail, do you know that?"

The gray gnawer- Shredtail- stepped back, looking nervous. "My parents said there were rumors years back. Stories of a killer child, come to live with gnawers."

"True stories, as we now see," said another gnawer. She stepped forward, and though her fur was a creamy off-white splotched with black, rather than fully gray, Paradox instantly saw the family resemblance- they must be brother and sister. "But if you don't mind my asking, how is it that you came to live as a gnawer?"

"I never knew my parents." Paradox answered the young female's question, but she addressed all the pups- five of them, now that she bothered to count. Her eyes lingered on Darkfang for a moment; her expression turned briefly cool, but with a touch of pity. He wasn't the only one to have lost family so young. "I was found on the river by Pearltooth and Flashstrike-"

"Were they the gnawers who turned traitor and were killed?" A younger voice piped up this time; Dox's gaze locked on another female, this one no more than three months old and a muddy brown. Her brother, a gnawer of similar but slightly darker shade, stared at Paradox with a mistrust that contrasted his sibling's curious, friendly tone.

Paradox, Song, and Snapclaw all whipped their heads around to stare at her. Everyone once again ignored Darkfang, who muttered a cynical, "Traitors raising killers- ha!"

"Where did you hear that?" asked Song, her eyes wide and her ears laid back.

The youngster shrugged. "Same as Shredtail. Stories. Rumors."

Paradox shook her head, speaking once more. "They are not traitors. They were driven away-" her eyes darkened and locked, hiding away her thoughts.

For a moment, it was as though the strangers had disappeared. Snapclaw came forward and lay the tip of his tail on her shoulder. "It had nothing to so with you, Dox."

Paradox sighed and shook her head; then she raised her eyes to the young gnawer again and continued. "They were driven away around the time of the Garden. If they are believed dead, it is a mistake- especially considering that they are renewing their place in society."

"That, _killer_, is as far as it goes!" Darkfang's sudden outburst, unprecedented and unsuspected, surprised everyone, and they all turned to look at him. He shook his head, gnashing his teeth in frustration.

"I have a name," Paradox said calmly, but with a touch of danger in her voice. "It has been used at least once here today. You are to use it when speaking to me."

But Darkfang ignored her, instead addressing the assembled gnawers. "Are we to believe this- this outsider?" He swiveled to face the brother and sister. "Echo, how can you speak to it like a gnawer? Rip, your mistrust is written across you face, and yet you are no better than the rest, for you say nothing!"

Echo raised an eyebrow and shrugged, but said nothing- she didn't have to, for disapproval was displayed on her young face for all to see. Her brother hung his head in shame- but whether it was shame for himself or for Darkfang was impossible to tell.

The black pup swiveled to face Shredtail's sister, the cream and black gnawer. "Whip, how about you? Surely you are not content to let her act like she has a right to speak to us?"

Whip rolled her eyes and stepped pointedly away from Darkfang, her annoyance showing on her dappled face.

Finally, in exasperation, Darkfang turned to face Shredtail. The sight of the gray gnawer seemed to enrage him; he ground his teeth together again and advanced, growling as he did so. "And you- you are the worst of all! You sit there, talking to her likes she is an _equal_, like she is a gnawer! You _welcome_ her!" The black pup drew nose to nose to the gray one, but Shredtail didn't give up an inch; Darkfang spat at his paws and turned away in disgust. "Traitor!"

Now the black gnawer's attention was turning to Snapclaw and Song; seeing this, Paradox decided enough was enough, and raised her voice. "Darkfang!"

Surprised, the black gnawer turned to stare at the girl. She let her hand drift down to her dagger, just in case- pure, unrelenting fury and hate smoldered in his eyes, like embers about to set the wood above ablaze. It was quite unnerving- but Dox didn't let her nervousness show. She had to be strong. She had to stand up for herself.

"You are right- I am a killer," she said, and the force of the anger and passion held in her tone was enough to keep even Darkfang quiet. "But this is only in form. My thoughts and speech, my heart and soul, the blood in my veins- that is gnawer, and that is what counts. Would you be any less a gnawer if you lost an ear? If some mischance cut off you tail? If your leg had to be taken off or you lost part of your shoulder in a fight?

"My point is, shape is not what makes a gnawer, nor anything we can touch or see or hear or smell." Paradox passed her gaze once more over the gnawers; Darkfang, naturally, was still glowering, but he was the only one. Echo's expression was almost adoring, Shredtail and Whip were nodding approvingly, and even Rip was gazing at her with a measure of respect.

Darkfang, too, looked about; seeing that he was alone on his side of the argument, he turned angrily away and stormed away.

Nobody watched him go. Instead, all eyes turned to Paradox, who was standing still, a trace of sorrow in her dark, violet eyes.

"You are right," came a voice, and everyone, startled, looked at Rip. The brown gnawer was hanging his head, but he raised it as he spoke to look directly at Paradox. "I am sorry, Paradox- sorry for doubting you because of your shape. I mistrusted you, as we are taught to mistrust killers. But you- are not like other killers." His eyes locked on to hers. "For that matter, I am not even sure you are a killer."

Paradox nodded, then smiled softly. "I am not."

And that was the end of that discussion. For the rest of the day, until Dox and Song and Snapclaw were called in by their parents, Paradox was just another pup- another gnawer, with friends. And that night, for once in her life, her dreams were truly pleasant. She was accepted at last; she had her place among the gnawers. A small place, true, and there had been many that day who had refused to even speak to her- but she was still a gnawer.

But had she been able to see what would happen just a few short years later, her dreams may not have been so sweet…


End file.
